Log:Mandalorians: New Deception
Mandalorians: New Deception
OOC Date: January 21, 2022
Location: Fondor Orbit
Participants: Valeska Jaivon, Orin, Fennec Shand, Avery Ihala Kora, Sumi Kora, Zevin Daodhri, Hahtavi Kora and Hadrix Kora as GM Clan Kora
<<"NR-Bulk Convoy Lead, Fondor ATC acknowledges. Proceed by buoy to your drop zone, cargo is being being tugged to position.">> The comms within the purloined and still New Republic craft in the convoy received the message over a universal comms. NR Convoy Six, with the 'pirate' crew of Mandalorians aboard was at the rear, dropping from hyperspace moments after the rest. With Hadrix at the controls, moving to get into flight position while checking sensors for the quartet of massive cargo containers meant to be claimed today.
"Everyone be ready for this to go suddenly poorly. This thing has no weapons, so we'll be repelling boarders more like." the big man rumbling while watching the TIE patrol sweep through the area, passive scans reported by sensors and Heiyuu now plugged into a droid socket to one side of the small bridge.
"Just need to grab and run..."
Elsewhere, just outside of sensor range by Fondor or the Star Destroyers in orbit nearby, the small collection of fighters used by Kora hung in open space. A kimogila, T-70 X-Wing and ARC-170 fighter. Mandalorians ready to step in should, when, the moment arise. Mir The Rememberer, Greeza and Pheegus in the aggressive recon craft, awaiting the go-orders from Sumi.
The craft sits cold with frost on the canopy as a Mandalorian with a mirror-like T-visor watches the void of space. Listening to the comm-traffic, Sumi leans forward and flips a switch down, her voice transmitting with robotic like quality over the encrypted line. <<"Task force Stompa on standby, Commander. Call when you need.">> Sumi flips the switch back down and leans back in her seat. A long sigh follows and she shakes in her seat a bit. <"Rekking cold in here..">
Orin was in the kimogila, ready to jump in should things go immediately to shit. The Echani warrior was ready to fly. Though at the moment, he can't see anything that's happening, he's just getting reports. He's ready to move in. "Ready to go." Orin immediately replies back on the communications, and he takes a deep breath. He tightens some of the straps on his CNG armor, and seems to push a few buttons, a quick systems to check to make sure there's not a random coolant leak or something.
Would suck if the ship blew up before it even started moving.
"<Great. I love sitting in an unarmed bucket with TIEs and Star Destroyers bristling all around us."> And -he- isn't the one piloting, either - thankfully he trusts Hadrix. Hahtavi shifts his weight and grimaces behind his borrowed helmet, one gloved hand to pat down the strange armor he's wearing. Always feels odd whenever he's not wearing his own and this scenero is even more uncomfortable than the ones they've already completed. A slow, deep breath, then he starts double checking his Galaar.
"<This bucket vents into vacuum, I'm sure going to miss my vacuum sealed armor."> But not for long. Lucky him.
It's been an interesting series of missions so far and now they were nearing what felt like the grand finale. All in all, things have gone surprisingly well. Nevermind the bloody bandages wrapped around her left arm. It's under the armour, so it doesn't count.
The armour. Her very un-Mandalorian armour. Currently not the recognizable crimson-painted Mando, Valeska's armour is painted primarily a very pale, nearly white gold with the trims of pastel pinks and purples. She cuts a very feminine form. Very much not her style.
Double-checking her rifles, Valeska glances around a moment then tilts her blast-shield covered face towards Hadrix. "Can't expect it to go smoothly the whole way, yeah?" But she can certainly hope.
"Think 'ey'll drop in, same way we did? Or is there another good latch-on point we should be coverin' preemptive-like?" Zevin is still in Void Armor, but the helmet is off and sitting in his lap as he leans against the side of the bridge. An old soldier never passes up a chance to take a bit of weight off. In a way, it's surprising he didn't take a nap.
Maybe there wasn't time with all the bodies to drag back to the barracks and tie up.
He straightens up and slides out the center of his hand cannon to check the bullet situation. He pushes it back and locks it into place. "Reckon I'll take a mosey and see." He slides his helmet back into place and walks towards the bridge's exit at an easy walk.
Armor is like one's second skin, especially if worn for long enough it can certainly feel like it. Point is, once someone wears a suit of armor for a long enough time the armor molds itself to the person, fitting them perfectly becoming, as stated, that second skin. In addendum to that, new clothes, and armor, just seem to always itch. Such it is that Avery looks miserable and uncomfortable as he wriggles about in the CNG Specialist Armor that he had picked up earlier that day.
"I miss my Doomseeker..." he comments to no one in particular, now rolling his shoulders as if that movement would provide the requested years of use in a few moments. Finally the Mandalorian Slicer gives in and busies himself with going over the final check of his equipment, particularly the trusty E-11 that had saved his ass in many a fight. Once satisfied with the state of affairs, he lifts his head to peer at the rest of the crew in their unusual protective gear, the carbine blaster shifted to be at the ready for when, not if knowing this lot, the trouble begins.
There was a new face amongst those interested in the future of the Reckoning, though, there wasn't much anyone could make out of it. Black hair with orange weavings taper down beneath an angular helmet, black and orange, with a thin exposed visor showing off a pair of deep, rich brown eyes. They watched the others quietly, as Shand herself leane dinto a bulkhead, rifle leaning beside her. She was taking headcounts and looking people over, studying them. Judging them.
Convoy Six was sluggish and even small movements ended up as over corrections, resulting in the bulk freighter slewing to one side and having trouble keeping in the buoy lines,
"This thing has a fat ass..." Hadrix grumbles while the ship gets lazily back into vector for their intended cargo targets, speeding some to close gaps while comms engage.
<<"Convoy Six, Fondor ATC, you're out of position, what is the issue?">> <<"Fondor ATC, Convoy Six, minor navigational error we're correcting it.">> the rasp is there but it's more like someone who needs to cough - and his accent is distinctly Naboo now. <<"We're accelerating to be in position as we slow.">> the big man looks over his shoulder to others on the bridge with a 'Eyyy?' expression when the ATC voice returns,
<<"Convoy Six, Fondor ATC, Acknowledged. Clean it up and fly your designated line.">>
Another button is pushed by Hadrix. A tap code sent to where the fighter are with a 'Be ready' code.
Eyyyyy
Since there isn't much for him to do but wait, and Hahtavi doesn't like to sit around doing nothing, he parks his butt into one of the seats and brings up a comp to have a 'look see' outside with what's going on. His gloved hands, even the one missing a finger, are careful about what he's typing and accessing so he doesn't do anything he shouldn't. He pauses in annoyance to strip off the annoying helmet and sets it aside while his hands go back to accessing data, his pale grey eyes in his scarred face watching the screen as it does what he wants.
After a moment, Hahtavi frowns and speaks, his baritone low "6 of those TIEs are taking an interest in us. Active sensor sweeps inbound. Convoy 5 is also scanning us." A quick glance up towards where Hadrix is piloting, then back to the screen. Hahtavi continues to be relaxed. Fat butt they may have but the fat lady isn't singing yet.
A gloved hand reaches up to flip a toggle and change his spectrum readings. If Fennec studies him, this Kora's just doing his job and waiting patiently for whatever happens.
Since there isn't much for him to do but wait, and Hahtavi doesn't like to sit around doing nothing, he parks his butt into one of the seats and brings up a comp to have a 'look see' outside with what's going on. His gloved hands, even the one missing a finger, are careful about what he's typing and accessing so he doesn't do anything he shouldn't. He pauses in annoyance to strip off the annoying helmet and sets it aside while his hands go back to accessing data, his pale grey eyes in his scarred face watching the screen as it does what he wants.
After a moment, Hahtavi frowns and speaks, his baritone low "6 of those TIEs are taking an interest in us. Active sensor sweeps inbound. Convoy 5 is also scanning us." A quick glance up towards where Hadrix is piloting, then back to the screen. Hahtavi continues to be relaxed. Fat butt they may have but the fat lady isn't singing yet.
A gloved hand reaches up to flip a toggle and change his spectrum readings. If Fennec studies him, this Kora's just doing his job and waiting patiently for whatever happens.
Valeska is taking her usual spot of leaning on one hand against the back of the pilot's chair and looking over Hadrix's shoulder as he veers off course and then saunters back in again. His grumbly comment warrants a smartass smirk. "Is that the excuse you're--" The comms pipe up and Valeska immediately pipes down and moves away from the console so the pilot -- in his best Naboo impression -- can prevent them from being shot at out of suspicion.
While Zevin and Hahtavi make themselves useful, Valeska has positioned herself as a sentry in the bridge. Her arm wings out and taps Avery on the arm with the back of her fingers. "You get the new leg yet, vod?" To test her question, Valeska taps Avery's left leg with the butt of her rifle.
Back down the corridor they so recently were fighting through Zevin walks. There's still scorch marks along the walls and floor - while the undercover Mandalorian boarders were not shooting to kill, the same could not be said of the ship's New Republic defenders. He glances up at their way in: a dorsal hatch they hacked from inside Hapvarnna's well-aged ship. Retracing Hadrix's steps towards engineering, one gloved finger out to touch the bulkhead as he passes.
Then he pauses, looking at the button under his right finger, and leans closer.
<<"Bridge, this is Zevin. This ship's pret-ty symmetrical. Long story short: we got three points a' ingress. Ours, and one on each side a' the ship.">> There's a clang from down the hall, as he kicks something. <<"Once they attach cargo, only way in is how we got in, though. Recommend we set up a welcome mat an' you keep 'em from boardin' till after we got the goods, hee?">>
"Seems to have worked." Avery calls through the door to Hadrix as he lifts the Specialist helmet over his head and affixes it in place. An unfamiliar HUD appears on the inside of the plasteel visor and the dark emerald eyed man glances over all the information displayed briefly. His right hand rests on the barrel of the carbine on his shoulder, the presence of the weapon giving him a bit more comfort in the unfamiliar circumstances.
The pressure of a hand on his shoulder draws his gaze up for a very short while on Valeska's helmeted visage, the tap of her rifle against his leg drawing that regard down to the targeted appendage. There's a thunk unlike flesh there when she hits it, the sound being quite similar to the metal that adorned his lower leg before, but the shape quite different. A small smile slips across his lips and he reaches down to fuss with the boot that covers his lower leg. Seconds later, bits of metal and machinery are shown peeking from the gap between his boot and his pants. <"Got it yesterday, still smarts a bit... but that's what drugs are for."> The last portion of his comment is accompanied with an ever widening crooked grin.
Fennec moved slightly to get a glance out one of the viewports. She leans into the wall to watch the TIEs as they begin to 'take an interest'. "Boarding is preferable to being shot down," she mutters to herself, watching. Her eyes take a moment to turn from the viewport towards the front of the large ship. It was strange, knowing a few of the voices and seeing armor suited for subterfuge. That's when she leaned back to pull the rifle into hands.
"Copy, lets hope they don't decide they dislike what they see..." Hadrix grumbles "Avery, Valeska. Be ready to head for Zevin at moments notice. Fennec, you'll be last-line at the bridge hatch. Haht you're the only other on here that can fly besides me, if it starts to go shebs up, I'll need you here." ducking his head slightly to view a little more through the front screens.
The TIEs sweep past, a slew of sensor alerts going off, passive scans at first and then deeper scans followed by the scream of twin ion engines vibrating through the hull. It's quiet for moments and the New Republic craft ahead continue on their way - engines flaring as they pick up speed, drawing a bit of foul language from the man at the main controls.
Outside the ties split down the center of their rank formation to begin a loop towards the back of the freighter.
<<"Convoy Six, Fondor ATC... You're registering heavy on life signs, non-standard numbers for this flight. Please power down engines.">>
<<"Fondor ATC, Convoy Six, negative. We just have a couple of">> Hadrix begins making 'KSHHH-SHHH-KHSTKHSHHHHH' sounds and cuts the connection, "Didn't get all dressed for nothing."
Another toggle flicked and a specific beacon sent on directed beam in the direction of where Sumi and the fighters -should- be.
<<"That's our cue, boys.">> Sumi cuts over to local comms as the beacon signal comes back. Sumi moves after sitting there drifting for awhile, the frost shaking from her armor as she stretches an arm out to bring the craft online. T-70 engines roar to life, and all checks come back green. <"Taskforce Stompa, micro-jump on my mark. Stand by..">
The engines begin to whine as the R2 unit behind Sumi slowly pans its head. <"You think so, Rain?">--
<"Be advised, Rain says the odds are against us. Let's prove her wrong. -- Jumping in three, two.. mark.">
Sumi's canopy defrosted with a blast of life support environment and as she reached forward to take the hyperdrive lever, she's forced back in her seat as her view suddenly changes. All fighters begin to zip from real space with brief flashes of light, only to emerge above their signal beacon.
Sumi shoves the hypderspace lever forward, then reaches over to yank the release for S-foils. <<"May we all meet a worthy death when the time comes, but first, we must be worthy. Follow me..">> Red contrails from the T-70 X-wing bring the snubfighter within range, its shields shimmering into view. Sumi begins flipping several switches down to acquire targets.
Orin waits and he waits patiently. He stays off of the coms, he waits for his moment. Then once he sees that signal? "I was hoping this would go far smoother. But, better to have things go wrong early I guess. No plan survives first contact."
It's time to go.
He punches in those coordinates manually without droid assistance and he punches it! The light moves around the vessel as he jumps to hyperspace, appearing a moment behind Sumi Kora, priming his weapon systems. <<On you.>> He calls through coms to Sumi.
"Copied, Al'verde." Hahtavi turns his head to glance back in Fennec's direction, "I can back up Fennec if things get hot this way, or take over for you as needed." For the moment, he keeps checking the screens, "Six more TIES taking up positions. 6 fore, 6 aft. Party hat time."
The loaner helmet is picked up and put on. Hahtavi snugs it onto his head and grimaces, muttering to himself, "I should have stayed in my Kimo." But no, he didn't. So he focuses down on here and now. Work with what he's got. For the moment Haht keeps his attention on the screen and his ears sharp.
Inspecting the new, sleek appendage -- what she can see -- Valeska nods approvingly and gives it another WHAPWHAP with her rifles. "Heeeeey. Not bad, yeah? Not that the field leg made of scraps wasn't nice n'all but---" Again she pipes down, this time with a much more serious expression as she twists her upper torso to look back towards the console and all those lovely alarms going off. "Kriff."
A brief conversation, some 'static', and a cut line heralds the mission to begin that delicate tilt sideways. Charging up her rifle, Valeska claps her hand on the back of Avery's helmet and draws him in to a gentle head butt. "I got your back, yeah?" That said, that done, Valeska gives a 'on it' gesture to Hadrix and runs out of the bridge; rushing to join Zevin to where they are setting up the surprise party.
They didn't just take the old crew's armor away for fun! Now it comes in handy.
By the time Valeska and Avery reach him, the older Echani has distributed tripping hazards in front of the two side ports and is starting to do the same under the dorsal hatch. He leaves a narrow aisleway until the other two have joined them, then fills it in with a helmet. <"Reckon if we don't get shot down, this'll be the center of the party."> He points to a lateral corridor. <"This connects the two side corridors. If they comes in the sides, 'at's where we'll be. There's crates to use for cover - they used it against us on he way in on that side.">
<"I might try to get in their faces. If I do,"> he says drily, <"Do not shoot me, please an' thank you much. Will try to leave fire lanes."> He doesn't have any weapon in his hands, but they're near them. One hand near his Z6 riot baton, the other near his Enforcer, on opposite hips.
<"The waitin' is sometimes the worst part, y'know? Just hopin' somebody else can keep ya alive. I always remember my first long-term merc gig. Got so impatient. The vets told me, 'Most of war is killin' time. The rest is /killin'/ time."> He doesn't laugh, just listens.
They didn't have to wait too long for the plan to go sideways, at least there's some comfort in that measure of predictability. The scream of the TIEs past the window has Avery standing and looking through one of the ports, his regard traces the black and white fighters as they trail past the convoy. <"I definitely think they're getting suspici..."> he begins to say before the second transmission comes through and Hadrix cuts the comms.
<"So it's on to the second phase of our operation, then? Blast whatever is not us and get what we need?"> The Slicer asks, the E-11 immediately swinging down into his hands to be well and ready for when such a time starts. With their Al'Verde's order Avery looks to Val and gives her a nod, the gesture turning into a gentle thunk of the helmets and a crooked grin. <"Same, always."> He replies, a quick wave to Hadrix before the pair rush to back up Zevin and the defense of the crew.
Once settled in with the Echani, Avery listens and nods along to his explanation, gaze noting the points of interest. <"Nah, I don't think I've ever shot one of us on accident, or on purpose as a matter of fact. But we'll give ya cover as much as you need."> As he speaks, the Slicer shifts into position near one of the crates, verdant attention flickering toward each of the points of ingress. <"They're definitely not wrong..."> He comments on his phrase, though young in his years, the Mandalorian has been well versed in the art of killing and war.
As Hadrix's words come over the comms, Fennec is moving to plant her back towards the bridge door. She slips beside the incoming Valeska and punches her finger into the keypad to close the bridge door. Then, the rifle is brought to bear, readied for whatever may come through the hull to get to them. If anything was that eager. <"Door secure,"> she says, while lowering the lower lip of her helmet slightly to get a better view. Zev's words draw a smirk to Fennec's face, concealed by the helmet.
"Kriffing thing." pushing the thrust controls to full and slapping a switch to extend a piloting yolk that the big man takes, "Heiyuu" The plugged in R2 unit beeping and 'waking' up, dome head rotating towards the big man and tweedling; cut off by the big man when he pushes on, "Boost shield power I'm trying to get more out of this things engines."
The ship already starting to move forward at a drunken lurch, with a shake of the vessal and sparks outside that quickly extinguish when hulls momentarily touch and comms lights up with Ccnvoy 5's pilot now shouting expletives into the comms. "Hahtavi, if you can help fly this crate, any assistance would be appreciated." thrown against his restraints when TIE fire stitches along the hull, stopped by shields and sending up new warnings,
"Heiyuu! Patch shields!"
The next three of the six TIEs moving to screen for a troop transport inbound from the shipyards and headed for Convoy Six. The other half dozen fighters peeling off on their head-to-head attack run and making for the trio of fighters that come from hyperspace, far closer than they might have expected.
<<"Unidentified craft, you are in restricted space. Power down now and prepare to be tugged to dry dock.">> at least they're giving a warning first.
Sumi banks 'above' the friendly hauler to engage the intercepting TIEs enroute to cut them off. With s-foils already locked into attack position, it's only a matter of aligning the targeting computer with the fighter. When the noise goes 'Eeeeeeeee' the X-Wing releases a powerful volley, the squirt sounds of the cannons lost in the void. Soundless red lances impact a fighter's shield and Sumi twists after them, her head tilting slightly as a range-finder on her helmet slowly moves from standing at attention on the right side of her helm to hovering over her eye.
<<"Pull the fighters away from our friendlies while they figure their drek out.">> Sumi's voice is robotic over the encrypted comms. <"Stop talking, Rain. I can't tell what you're saying over my tinnitus and it sounds like one long, rekking beep."> Rain makes a pair of raspberry noises and Sumi huffs out a laugh. <"Ha, you little drek.">
When Hadrix says he's ready for that assistance, Hahtavi gets up and moves his shebs over to the co-pilot's seat. He straps in fast and grimaces at the control board, "<What a piece of osik!"> But even as he speaks, his hands are moving to toggle switches and locate things. He grimaces behind his helmet's faceplate and mutters something under his breath in Mando'a.
After the tic of a couple of seconds, he changes tactics, "Going to see if I can help out with those TIES..." Haht concentrates, going silent as he usually does when he's busy, then sees if he can generate more power and backwash the TIES on their six.
It's a /completely/ different kind of ship than he's used to flying. It's no surprise that Hahtavi's initial attempt isn't exactly a sparkling success. A grimace and he keeps working...
Valeska can't see what's going on outside but she can certainly infere. The ship lurches forward and there is a rattling of one hull scraping against another. And did they just get shot at? Yeah... Valeska is fairly certain they just got shot at. "Rekk me," the gold-and-pink armoured woman growls. She looks so much a lady. Acting like one? Noooot so much.
Rounding one of the crate Zevin has set up for cover, Valeska puts his efforts to use and sets up behind it. With her barrel resting on the top, Valeska keeps her eye near the scope but not precisely in it as she waits for any uninvited guests. "Y'know. I've never shot someone on my own team before." But as usual, it comes out in that thick, Dantooine twang where words get odd inflections and there's sounds like 'ahv' and 'nevah' and 'be-foor'. But the player is far too nice to type it out phonetically... until now.
"Prob'ly b'cuz it's real eas-ay to pick out our own arm-ah from the rest, yeah?"
Okay. Enough of that. You can imagine the distinct, Gumbo-twang now. "I promise not to shoot you on purpose."
The time for talking has passed. Now Zev just slowly walks the hall. It's a safe bet they'll land on top of the ship, and that is certainly where they should set up, but until he hears the clamps or the call over comms, he can't be certain. So he is listening, stepping from one port to the other port to under the dorsal hatch.
It's a waiting game now. His walk is interrupted when they scrape against the other ship, though, and the laser cannons pounding the shields are also impossible to miss.
Still, what is there to say? It's out of the defending crew's hands.
The eyes behind the plasteel shield lift up to the ceiling before sliding to the nearby wall when the ship rocks from the TIE fighter's attack. As with many of the other 'new' things, this ship is wholly new to Avery, if not many of the crew entirely. The way the ship shakes with the blasts that hit definitely stir up a question of structural stability in the back of the Slicer's mind... that and Hahtavi's offhanded comment earlier about being sucked into space.
Nothing really to do and concentrating on it would only get him off his focus. <"That may be true, but not for lack of trying."> Avery replies to Val's comment, a flick of a grin in her direction before his attention returns to the hatches they guard. He too props his blaster on top of the crate, setting the weapon in preparation of the death it will dole out soon enough.
<"Could be,"> Fennec returns, as she keeps her sight down range on the rifle. In the back of her mind, Fennec considered how many Mandalorians were shooting at each other. With her new mission square in her mind, it made her chuckle slightly. All the same, Fennec lowers herself onto a crate, drawing one leg up to set up what would be an efficient sniper position. Even if the range wasn't the same, she was ready.
The customary 'RrrrreeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOOOoooo!' of an R2 in distress fills the bridge when more laser lances batter shields, forcing tears in the magnetic field before bridge lights go red "I KNOW THE SHIELDS ARE DOWN YOU TIPPITY TWIT!" Hadrix roaring as the precision of the TIES is just so that there's no damage, only shields downed.
Followed close by the noise of something scraping along the ship hull before the heavy KLUNK of clamps engaging and the ship shaking with them, "Got you some extra maneuvering room Haht..." the bulk transport moving in form to try and disengage those clamps mag-locked to the hull, even if it takes hull plates. <<"Someone get whatever is attached removed so we can keep the clamps clear!"
Sparks and smokes begin blowing at a hatch, a hissing squeal of heat before it snaps open and forms in white plastoid shells begin... well storming the ship with rifles lifted and sweeping for targets. No more speech over comms, the intent now clear; no more warnings, no arrests. It is death.
Without, the ties trying to fend off the incoming fighters dive and weave through the head to head assault. Shields sparking and the mixture of crimson and green turning space into a laser lightshow while they split into wings, trying to take out Mandalorian craft with extreme vengeance.
Sumi is still 'dancing' with her target, and although she doesn't know they're TIE 6, it's TIE 6 that meets their end. Sumi's helmeted head tracks them for their flightpath, and she subconsciously follows with the flightstick, adjusting her path until the loud 'EEEEEEEEE' noise is heard.
Sumi's cockpit flashes a bright red, and the lances pierce her foe's craft setting it ablaze before the void suppressed the blast and her X-wing banked past it, engaging its after thrusters.
<<"Splash one.">>
The more he works on the flight consul, the more Hahtavi's figuring out what the ship can do and where things are located. With a tongue tip sticking out between his teeth that none of them can see, he flips more switches and gives up on the fancy stuff for the moment. He takes hold of the yoke and throttle and simply works on getting them where they need to be.
It quickly becomes more delicate work. Piloting a bucket like this, especially with another ship grappled onto them makes everything a heck of a lot harder and easier to mess up. A lot of mass involved in vacuum and a tight spot to manuvure into. "<<Port side is blocked ... taking us in starboard.">> This can't be rushed. Hahtavi focuses all of his attention on what he's doing, trying to block out their being shot at, their boarders, what the TIE fighters are doing. Don't even mention thosse Death Stars. /This/ is what they came for.
After a moment there is a soft bump as the entire ship slips into position. "<<Were set. Cargo alignment.">> Hahtavi glances at the other screens real fast to check their status.
Meanwhile, in the back of the freighter, Zevin stops mid-step, turning his head and listening. There's something- a scrape. <"Port! Port! Move, party people!"> He points across the lateral corridor and suits words to action himself, leaning forward as his legs rise and fall, propelling him down the hall.
He takes the turn sharply with a sideways lean. Instead of slamming into the wall, he pushes off the ground and twists so that his boots are pounding against bulkhead, not the floor. The left nozzle of his jetpack shoots a continuous wave of fire to support him in defiance of gravity as he runs along the wall.
As the hatch hisses red and the door unseals, First Order stormtroopers filing out with guns at the ready, Zevin swings up his Z6 riot baton. It slides out, locking into place moments before the jetpack disengages, the Echani pushes off the walls with his feet, and he comes down in electric arc that lands dead-center on the first stormtrooper out the hatch. He pushes off the falling trooper to wheel the baton around again and hit the next trooper, who goes equally limp.
He grabs under the helmet and pulls the trooper forward and out of the way, then swings up between the legs of the third one out, who cries out and goes down.
You don't get old if you're not willing to fight dirty. He sidesteps to be alongside the hatch, giving a clear line of fire for his comrades.
"If I was tryin', I would---" Valeska stops herself midsentence, looks up towards the upper left in thought, shakes her head, and returns her attention to her scope. "Nah. Probably still wouldn't hit. But the fact remains the same. I'm not /that/ bad of a shot." At least not anymore.
Zevin's warning is heeded immediately; Valeska pivots on the bottom of her rifle and shuffles around the crate to bring her attention to the portside. "Get ready to yell 'surprise,' ya'll." The boarding party of Stormtroopers is met with a surprise, indeed. First a flurry of stunning baton swings from Zevin that drops the first three in rapid succession. Valeksa doesn't have that kind of finesse. Not with her rifles. One shot follows and connets with a hapless fourth before he can even get fully onto the ship; blasting him backwards into the vessel he was storming from.
Do not weep for him. He feels no pain.
<<"Akkdog,">> Valeska says through the internal comms, using a callsign from a very different kind of mission. <<"How are we looking up there?">>
Avery loves his job, even in times where he is gravely injured or loses a limb, he still loves his job. It might even be said he loves it more so when Stormtroopers are the ones that fall before his fluury of blaster carbine attacks. The widening grin on his lips would betray that very thing as he moves to get into position, affording a better better angle on the bucketheads that pour through the opened hatch. It's convenient that they enjoy lining up in a row for target practice as well.
The trigger of his trusty, accurate, deadly E-11 is depressed twice, loosing two bolts of searing red plasma that streak toward their brilliant white targets. Both shots scream through the air, heralding death to the recipient of even one of the two attacks. With great precision and galaxy renowned accuracy both of the shots slam hard into the durasteel walls well and wide of their targets, scorching them with carbon burn and doing nothing to alleviate their situation. Avery looks sheepishly toward the three nearby, <"It's been a while... my uh... new leg threw me off...."> he explains with a rising red blush on his cheeks, something that wouldn't normally be seen behind his Y-visored Mandalorian helmet. Man he wishes he had his Doomseeker.
The First Order Stormtroopers fed into her viewfinder fairly unknowingly, as she remained in the rear of the aggressive pack. The red-orange scope watched as Zev dove in head first -- It wasn't her first time working with Mandalorians but that was some Gammorean depravity. A moment amidst Zev's tyrade of stunning strikes, the viewfinder finds something else: a Stormtrooper in the rear with a rank pauldron. <"Stripes,"> She says. The rifle kicks back slightly, and she accounts for it, to double tap two quick shots towards the Sergeant. Target eliminated. No more stripes.
Metal groans, both the Bulk craft and the transport craft as Hadrix halves thrust and dumps the power to maneuvering. A crunching groan within the ship and the Order transport craft attached slips once, and desperately tries to avail themselves in the following motions before an alert goes off and atmosphere hatches slam down in sudden alert when the pressure warning is engaged, resulting in a truncated scream leaving five and a half stormtroopers within the transport, those that can firing.
Outside the maneuvering jets of the transport turned up as they are with the combination of momentary air-pressure burst spinning it hard around and nearly stick-ball swatting two of the three ties that are near, forcing them out of position to avoid being smashed by the erratically moving craft.
"Haht! Get the other cargo containers and we can go home!"
In the corridor the Stormtroopers attempts to burn down Zevin are done in earnest, two others taking pot shots further down the line as callouts go out over private comms. Orders to 'Get behind him!' among others, chaos briefly ensuing as command shifts and the ingress force is made to adapt on the fly.
It's tough to get this ship moving again but once he's latched onto their cargo, Hahtavi's double checking it is secure. "<<On it, Al-verde. Moving for the other containers now.">> There is so much going on around them and inside of the ship that he can't do anything about. Haht keeps his attention on what /he/ needs to do and trusts in the rest of their team to do their jobs. That's all he can do.
Gloved hands shift. Hahtavi brings the lumbering ship to a new heading and coaxes what speed he can for the short distance to pick up the next container. It /feels/ like it is taking foever and a lifetime. So SLOW. He is persistant, making small adjustments, manuvering jets firing just so to swing them around softly. Another bump and movement of his hands over the controls to secure another container.
It takes several minutes. TIE fighters are flying, ships are firing, there's alarms shrieking - but no freaking. Haht's heart is hammering a bit fast. Stress. This is NOT his usual kind of work, not at all. Bit by bit he's getting it done and sweating in his borrowed armor.
The Sargeant in the cheap seats is erased from the threat iterary, and Valeska passes a glance over her shoulder towards Fennec with tilt of her helmet that is a mix of 'hot damn' and 'who the heck are you?' "Nice shot, yeah?" She calls 'em like she sees 'em. Though now just sliiiightly less eager to turn her back on the woman, Valeska has little choice as there are still enemies abound.
Five and a half of them, to be precise. Though the legs sticking out from the blast shields don't pose much of a concern, they still manage to give Val the heebies and the jeebies. Yeesh. What a way to go.
BLAM!
Another Stormtrooper is erased by the grace of her rifle and the merc breathes a sigh of relief. See? What a much better, merciful way to go. "You okay there, Zev? Done dancing with your near partners?"
Shooting someone with a rifle when they are right next to you and being squirmy isn't easy. Zevin makes it harder, ducking aside from one blast, pushing a barrel away with his hand, and knocking the last upwards to send a shot into the ceiling with his baton, joining corridor's many scorch marks.
As he defends he weaves in offensive moves, tripping one with the baton, jamming it right into another one's face, then tucking his foot behind another's ankle and pulling him down with his free hand in something resembling a judo throw.
That leaves two of them on the ground still conscious, a problem he solves with a slam of the baton that hits both troopers, one in the neck and the other in the chest armor - which the electricity mostly ignores. Then the Echani stands alone, and only one trooper remains. <"I'm fine."> He holds the baton up at the ready. Would it block a blaster bolt? Maybe. It deflects a lightsaber. He eyes the trooper outside of his reach.
At least Avery redeems himself on the second volley after the crate in front of him plays its part in taking a shot from the doomed First Order flunkies. After a few grumbles to himself and lining up on the last standing foe, the Slicer fires once... that bolt striking very near the previous two shots... and then fires again.
This is the shot of redemption when the plasma finds the chest plate of the Stormtrooper and subsequently drops the form to the ground like a lifeless puppet. <"There...."> Avery states, shifting the blaster to the opening again in case more decide to foolishly enter this hallway of doom.
Fennec smirked at the response on the comms, even offering a bit of a tilting head in a nod at the question of who she was. That could come later. Her eyes returned to the scope, waiting for signs that anyone else might be coming along to join their little party. She adjusted in her position only slightly, tilting and moving with the angle of the rifle, balanced on her arm.
"Hull damage!" The transport no longer attached, the TIEs not distracted by its spinning journey are back on the BFF's tail, fire shredding shields and causing a brand new alert when hull plates are vaporized or slagged into flash-cooled spike formations trailing from the hull. Gases vent from holes made before magcon shields can erect and the entire ship is shuddering.
"Haht I hope you're decent at astrogating." Hadrix's voice as he tries to throw the lever, angling with the quick jump coordinates Heiyuu is trying to engage, being rewarding with the harsh, grinding wind-down of the hyperdrive failing to engage. Thumbing a PA toggle, <<"I need someone who can try to get shields up... and we might need someone who can plot a microjump on the fly!">>
One of the TIEs screening fighters is struck and begins drifting while the pilot within fights the urge to remove their helmet - a quick death for an instinctive move, instead applying patches to their flightsuit and watching the ARC-170 whip past, then the X-Wing and the Kimogila adding to the chain of fire to distract the TIEs on the bulk craft.
More TIEs are being launched by the Star Destroyers and Hadrix spotting them out the viewport brings about a solid,
"Stang."
There's a nod even though Hadrix is surely too busy to see it, "<I'm not osik at it. Working.>" Hahtavi strips off the unfamiliar gloves so he can better use his hands on the controls. He sets himself to working with the nav computer. He bites his tongue on making any comments about this being what droids are for - no time for it.
Fingers fly, data is pulled up and mathematics calculated, course tradjectories input. The first part goes through and sets them to moving out.
The nexgt parts are more difficult. Haht's very quiet. He keeps working, and working, and when it's not working, he finally growls something in Mando'a and starts over. "<Olaror bat... olaror bat!>" More muttering to himself in annoyance.
Threats are threatening no longer and that's usually a time to kick up one's feet and call it a day. But no. They are still very much being attacked and the call from the bridge is a cue to get her rear in gear. Flicking the saftey on, Valeska slings her rifle and quickly makes her way back to where all the lovely alarms are going off and the big window at the fore showing her the chaos outside.
"Need help?" Hardy har har. All to try to hide the mild bit of panic that is starting to rise. Valeska is up to where Hahtavi is now, looking over his shoulder as he plugs in the mathmatics and attempts to plot a course that doesn't tear them to shreds or end the up in the middle of a dwarf star. "Never did get good at it myself, yeah? What about.... what about this?" She taps in sequence and the console buzzes QUITE offendedly. ER"Er... I meant..."
Tap tap tap.
It's not the best equation and please do not ask to see her work, but maybe it is enough to get the the hell out of this firepit.
he ship rocks with the impacts. It sounds different when the shields are down. As the call comes out of the ship's speakers for help in the bridge, Zevin drops to one knee by the six people he hurt today. All are unconscious. He puts a hand on the fragmented chest armor of one stormtrooper. He looks down at them, each getting a few seconds of attention, before he pulls a knife from his belt.
Just under the helmet and from the side, he cuts their throats quickly and cleanly. Now all are dead. He pulls a small rag from behind his bandolier and wipes the blood off the knife before sliding it back into its sheath.
Zevin rises and turns to walk, unhurried, towards the bridge. He's not needed there for anything more than moral support.
Fennec was through the bridge door, following after Hahtavi. Her eyes follow the paneling of the ship for a moment before she's looking near the top of the door she came through. As she lets her rifle rest against the wall, she pulls a small silver knife from it, which is quickly used to pry open a panel. The knife then cuts through the wires there, and she quickly reties the wires in a new configuration. Unlimited power!
<"We might get a little warm. That power's coming from the cooling systems,"> Fennec intones, matter-of-factly. As she turns back to watch Haht and Hadrix get back to work, she idly fingers at the gleaming throwing knife.
The door to their bridge suddenly opening makes Hahtavi grab for his rifle and start to turn to blast whoever the kriff is ... oh, wait. It's Valeska, thankfully. Back to his work. Her input starts to make him scowl behind his helmet and then suddenly not, <"Yes, that could work..."> Between that and other's efforts to work on the engines they keep edging towards where they need to be! Hahtavi turns his bucket seat from the nav computer that's working and back to the main flight controls.
<"Akkdog, nav is working. Clear to get out of here."> His now bared hands take hold of the flight yoke and then ... patience. It's like trying to pilot a huge rock. <"Olaror bat ... you osik sucking... "> Slow going but they are picking up speed.
The nav computer finally spits out the jump and they are good to go.
With the last of the boarding party dealt with, it's time to turn their attention to escaping with what they came here for. Hadrix calls for assistance in flying, in astrogating, just about everything to help the crew to flee. He's not the best pilot, nor is he the best in navigation, but he can coax systems to give a little more than they had been.
To a console he goes and immediately begins shifting through the systems, pulling up the feed for the shields and rerouting some of the extra power given by Fennec to bolster their defenses. After a time, the readout beams an increase of twenty percent, enough to help deflect an attack or two should the need arise. <"Have a bit more protection but let's get out of here before we even need that, yeah?"> Avery calls as he holds on to a jutting part of the ship's wall for support.
The navcom gives a tone that recognizes the coordinates inputted by Hahtavi and then Valeska at the last. Systems going green and the hollow rushing tone of the drives beginning to warm up echoes through the ship.
"That'll get it!" growled by Hadrix as the shield alerts scream again and more atmospheric warnings flash. Slagged hull plates are drifting away from the ship and the big man is doing all he can to keep thrusters pointed. Without those shields that were so quickly re-snuffed that could have gone far worse than it had. Far worse.
"Better warm than atomized, yeah?" Teeth gritted and foot stomping on one of the etheric rudder pedals and the hull is screaming from the stress that is causing even the inertial compensators to short in places. A signal is sent and Sumi, Orin and the trio in the ARC send acknowledgements. S-Foils closing on the ships that have them before they swing and angle to leap suddenly to hyperspace.
"Keep that going Haht!" lights flash on the control panel and there is a motion that brings both pilot and co-pilots hands to the double wide bar for the hyperdrive lever. Shoving it forward before they're thrown back in their seat. Lurching into Hyperspace on what will be a short jump. To meet with the Old'n Busted. Where the cargo will be dropped and unconscious crew untied so that they can head back for Fondor when they finally come too.
The Marauder Cruiser having tractor beams and modified 'lashings' to carry the cargo containers on the final leg.
"We almost died. Congratulations everyone..." the big man's eyes close and he slumps in his seat, laughing and sticking a cigarra in his mouth.
"So what else is new?" Avery replies after he tugs the helmet from his noggin, clearly having no idea just how close the crew actually came to being sucked out into space. A hand runs through his already messy hair and he sets the helmet onto the crate he had been crouched behind, peering from the viewport on the side at space rushing by. "Just another day in paradise, amirite?" And back goes the E-11 over his shoulder, slinging the weapon from his arms and stowed to be carried.
Holy osik, he's maybe never sweated a mission THAT hard and for that long! Hahtavi's going to smell pretty ripe and need a shower. He pulls of the hated helmet. "That was closer than I liked. Good job, everyone." Haht tips his head back, "I want a stiff drink." It was kind of like really bad sex that he'd worked really hard at.
Now they are in hyper he unstraps, and gets up, "Val, vor'e. You did good." Now Haht's going to go find the head.
There's no doubt about what is going on outside. A swarm of TIE fighers are out for blood and they means to get it. The words 'we need to get out of here' are lingering on her lips but go unsaid. Because everyone else knows it, too. The ship rockets and groans against the onslaught; cushioned by the joint efforts of Fennec and Avery to get a shield up in the nick of time.
The coordinates in and a leap to hyper space throws Valeska back; hitting the bulkhead with a loud OMPH! of a grunt. She decides that the floor is a good place to be and slides down to it, holding her rifle close to her body and taking in a few deep breaths. "Well... that was.... I mean, we won, yeah?" Another deep, uneasy breath. "Maker, that was close. I hope Bullet really appreciates this."
Looking up, she smirks a little lopsided to Haht. "Thanks... I need to work on my astrogating, though. Rifle aim is pretty good, yeah?" And she then tilts her head towards Fennec. "You're a damn good shot. Remind me not to get on your bad side."
And finally. "Hadrix. When we get back to the Reckoning, we need to bring our own food for celebration. I doubt he still has the wine. Or the scones."
Fennec is pressed back a bit as the ship finally makes the jump, and she leans into it to try and compensate. After a moment the dampeners were doing their work and Fennec relaxes, pulling the helmet from her head. She eyes Valeska. "It takes a lot to get on my bad side. Just stay on Bullet's good-side, and we're square," she says. Her face turns back to the pair in front, and he offers them a nod. "Sometimes tells me that was closer than it feels," she admits, "If the Reckoning doesn't have good food, I'm going to spend more of the Old Man's money."
